The Honolulu Murder Files

Chapter 11

"Give me a black coffee. None of that fru-fru shit."

Detective Jones is about to drive through a Starbucks coffee when he starts to laugh. The dynamic between the two crack me up. They banter but you can tell it has depth to it. 

"Fine. No worries."

He orders coffee and detective Keele adjusts notes on his lap. I can see my name drawn in the middle in big letters, with what looks like a spider web shooting outwards with names all around mine. Was I the spider in this scenario? I don't like spiders. 

"So, who are we seeing after the office?"

"We need to see the hotel lawyer. He has a huge connection to her."

"Oh yeah, I saw his file. That interview should be interesting."

"Or fucked up, depends on how cooperative he is."

Detective Jones pulls up to the Starbucks window and pays as well as grabs the coffees from the barista.

"I was thinking. One possible scenario is this is an accident."

"Never go against the coroner when they have clear cut evidence. It's not good practice. But If we find contrary evidence, then we can consider it."

"I get it boss....just thinking outside the box."

Detective Keele holds up the pad of paper he has on his lap. 

"This right here has all the possibilities we can handle. We need to go over everything and start weeding them out one by one."

I know there are a lot of suspects but I am surprised that almost all of them seemed to have a motive to want to kill me. How can that even possibly be true? It almost doesn't sound normal. Nothing in my life really ever turned out how I had planned but this was next level crazy. If you can imagine your death being a homicide, you only picture one suspect doing it. 

He drives back to the Honolulu Police station and I follow them back inside to their office. By now it feels normal accompanying them. And oddly comforting. They are the cavalry, the military and the knights in shining armor. Beacons of truth on a fact finding mission. I have faith they will figure this mystery out. 

Somehow. 

🩸

"Bring out the white board."

"I guess it warrants it...your notebook is full of names..." 

Detective Jones leaves the office to get a jumbo rolling white board. He wheels it in and lets it rest by their desks. I am going to be on one of those CSI show type boards. This feels weird. 

"Start at the middle, Leilani, the victim."

He grabs a marker and writes my name in purple oddly enough, which just so happens to be my favorite color. Do they know that? Detective Keele taps the desk with his pen as he glances at his notebook. 

"She was 23. Worked at Hilton Hawaiian Village as Guest Services Coordinator. Her parents died a few years ago and she is an orphan adult. No other family. Few friends. Many acquaintances."

I sounded....sad. My life hadn't felt that way but I guess I was more of loner. I thought I had been doing well for myself though. 

"Owned own home, should we put that on?"

Detective Keele nods. 

"Yep. Also important. We haven't gone to talk to the building suspects yet. Or the other acquaintances outside of her workplace."

"Why not just bring them in here, all at once? At least the ones from the hotel?" Detective Jones asks, genuinely sounding like he wants to know. 

"I like this approach better for this case. For one, there are too many suspects. For another reason, they are giving us clues by going to them. Slipping up. If we did the interviews here I doubt we would have gotten as many stalking confessions."